


I is for Immolation

by MariaPriest



Series: Stargate Drabbles' Alphabet Challenge [9]
Category: Stargate SG-1
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-21
Updated: 2018-05-21
Packaged: 2019-05-09 23:04:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,850
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14725322
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MariaPriest/pseuds/MariaPriest
Summary: The team visits a planet where touch is taboo and gruesomely punished.





	I is for Immolation

**Author's Note:**

> Mid-Season 1, just before "Fire and Water."  
> This is dark and may be disturbing to many people. The violence depicted is brief, at least.  
> Ho-Masubi is a Japanese goddess (or god, depending on the source) of fire.  
> This story alludes to "G is for Gourmet"; however, it's not necessary to read that one.

"Ex _cuse_ me?" Colonel Jack O'Neill asked, taking great pains to show his belligerence and leveling his MP5 at waist level.

Makato, the leader of the native population of P3R-499, bowed his head and smiled graciously, seemingly unperturbed by O'Neill's less-than-tactful attitude. "Forgive me for not making clear our customs, most honored visitor-leader. Please allow me to repeat them using different words in hopes of bringing you to a full understanding."

O'Neill had understood the leader the first time; he just wanted confirmation that he had heard what Makato had said. How a people that appeared so civilized, peaceful, and hospitable could even have any penalty for such a minor transgression made absolutely no sense to him, or to the rest of SG-1. It horrified them all, as well as instilled fear in a shivering Daniel Jackson, who had been doused with some fluid that smelled a lot like kerosene.

IIII

_74 hours earlier in the SGC Conference Room_

“This is the video of P3R-499 that the MALP shot a few hours ago,” said SG-1's archeologist. The rest of the team and General Hammond saw a wide path that was lined by pillars leading away from the Stargate. The pillars were tall and ornate, golden in color, and the bowls on the tops flickered with flames. In the distance they could make out a few buildings but couldn't discern any details.

“A little pretentious for my taste, but the welcome seems warm enough,” O'Neill said matter-of-factly.

Hammond and Captain Carter snickered quietly under their breaths. Jackson, undaunted, continued.

“Sam enhanced a few frames and we got this.” Two clicks of the remote and they were looking at a still of Japanese architecture. Teal'c leaned forward slightly in his chair. Jack, having noticed the subtle move in the otherwise statue-like Jaffa, turned his full attention to Teal'c. Shortly after that, so did Hammond and Carter.

“From what we can see, it appears to be a 15th-century Japanese ...” Daniel spoke the last word slowly once he realized he had lost his audience. “Uh, what's going on?”

“Teal'c? You know this place. This planet.”

“Yes, Colonel O'Neill. I was there many years ago for a short time, before I became First Prime of Apophis. Nihon, a most beautiful world, is known to all Goa'uld. It is one of several worlds ruled by Ho-Masubi –"

“Uh, uh, Japanese goddess of fire,” interjected Daniel.

Teal'c nodded once. “Ho-Masubi was a Goa'uld known for her more lenient ways in the treatment of her Jaffa and slaves. She was tolerated by the System Lords merely because her planets supply the greatly desired gilded torches used throughout their ships and buildings.”

Hammond, unaccustomed to such a long speech by the Jaffa, had to shake himself to respond. “Teal’c, you said, ‘ _was_ tolerated.’ Are we to understand she’s dead?”

“There is speculation that is the case, as no one has neither seen nor heard from her in many decades. No Goa’uld known to me has attempted to conquer her worlds, as the artisans continue to fulfill their contracts.”

“What was your business there, Teal'c?” Hammond asked.

“A delivery was late. I, among others, was sent to ... facilitate completion of the transaction.” Teal'c stiffened ever so minutely and shifted in his chair.

“I see,” Hammond said evenly after the unspoken details filled themselves in. “What can you tell us about these people?”

“They were quite hospitable and accommodating. I do not believe they would pose a threat to visitors.”

“General, I think this is a mission for SG-1,” Jack said. “These folks could help us go on the offensive. We could ask them to plant explosives in their . . . doodads. Or ask that some of our people join their ranks so they could gather some intel. At the very least, maybe they would agree to include some sort of surveillance or tracking in their torches so we’d know who was coming uninvited to dinner.”

“It would take some doing, but with Teal'c's knowledge and help, we could design a transmitter that would give us an earlier warning of any approach to Earth than what we have now, sir,” Carter offered.

Teal'c cocked his head in agreement. “I believe it may be worth examining the possibility of forming such an alliance with Ho-Masubi's people.”

Hammond said nothing for a few moments, his face a study in contemplation. “SG-1, looks like you got yourselves a mission. You gate out in” -he checked his watch- ”48 hours.”

“Excuse me, General?” Daniel piped up.

“Yes, Dr. Jackson?”

“If these people are as steeped in tradition and formality as I think they are, we could use a little more time to prepare. We wouldn't want to offend them. And I think it would be good idea to find out why Ho-Masubi was so different from other Goa'ulds.”

“Of course, Dr. Jackson. How much time will you need?”

IIII

_74 hours later_

Daniel Jackson was running out of time. Automatically, O'Neill had inserted himself between Daniel and Makato and the crowd that was changing to a mob. An orderly, vaguely threatening mob, but a mob nonetheless. As soon as someone had showered Daniel with that unknown but undoubtedly flammable liquid, Jack had ordered Carter to help Daniel get out of his contaminated gear and to pour all the water in their canteens over their teammate. Once that was done, she too had un-safed her rifle and chose a different field of fire than the colonel's. Teal'c readied to use his staff weapon as a ram; he hadn't primed it for fear of a spark igniting Jackson.

All the while, they had listened, at first unbelieving then sickened when they realized Makato was serious, to the leader's proclamation: Daniel Jackson and the young boy Kin must burn for their breaches of Nihon law.

Now the colonel, motioning the soaked Daniel to back away, glowered at Makato's lightly disguised condescension. “You don't have to repeat anything, Makato. You made your point. Not gonna happen, though. As a _civilized_ man, I'm just finding your _laws_ and the punishments for violating them a little on the barbaric side. For cryin' out loud, that kid just tripped!”

“The circumstance surrounding the touching for which there was no request and no permission is not important. It is the touching only that matters. All involved must do as the law requires.”

“No, we don't and hey, _here's_ a thought. You don't have to, either! Ever hear of mercy? A pardon? Or making the punishment fit the crime?”

Daniel forced himself out of his stunned stupor when he heard the escalating anger in Jack's tone. “Makato, please!”

The interruption was enough to throw Jack off his tirade. “Daniel,” he warned.

Daniel ignored him. “Makato, we have customs and laws that are very different from yours. We value each life, as you do, but we would only take a life if our own were in danger. Colonel O'Neill is simply asking you to consider alternatives.”

“Daniel-san, you and your leader are asking our people to ignore our ways that have served us well for many years.” Makato paused for a moment. “In the short time you have been with us, you have been following our customs. Why would you not follow this one as well?”

“Because it makes no sense!” Jack shouted, his frustration showing.

“Jack,” Daniel said quietly and soothingly.

It worked to calm him down, but only marginally. “How can you expect me to set my friend on fire? For _any_ reason?” Jack couldn't think of one. Even Daniel or Carter getting snaked couldn't justify that. He'd shoot them, since Thor's Hammer was no longer an option, or imprison them, but burn them? Never. Nor would he let them be burned. Under _any_ circumstances. “And Kin's _mother_ has to torch him? Now I know why none of the Go'uld ever tried to take this place over. You're worse than they are.”

Daniel cringed as the mob became acutely more agitated. The insult Jack had just uttered might actually cost him his own life. All this because a pre-adolescent boy intrigued by Daniel's glasses strayed too close and grabbed onto the archeologist's leg to keep from landing on the ground. And because Daniel had naturally helped the boy regain his footing. He knew the thought of Kin's fate was torturing Jack. Of course, it was torturing all of them, but Jack more so.

Silent and shivering, Kin, soaked to the skin with the same fluid they'd used on Daniel, stood to his leader's left and back several paces. His big, almond eyes showed defeat and resignation.

O'Neill felt himself slipping into killer mode as his heart was being chewed up in a corroded meat grinder. By the time he had tamed that beast enough to maintain control, his weapon was at his shoulder and aimed at Makato's head.

“Jack, NO!” pleaded Daniel.

O'Neill ignored him. “Here's how this is gonna play out, Macadoo. You and your little flock of sheep are going to let us leave. No lighting matches, no flicking Bics, no fire or sparks of any kind. You're gonna let us take Kin with us. As long as he's not here, it'll be easy to pretend he's dead.”

Carter and Teal'c tensed further, ready to follow O'Neill's lead. Daniel exhaled and closed his eyes in relief. There was still a chance no one would get hurt.

Makato hesitated, giving SG-1 hope that he was at least considering O'Neill's terms. Then he waved both hands in toward himself. In less than a second, Kin was surrounded by a wall of people. Several torches flamed to life for the sole purpose of dealing a hideous, inhumane death.

“No.”

The air practically crackled from the spike in tension at Makato's single word.

Jack's finger twitched on the trigger as he weighed his decision: massacre dozens of people to try to maybe save one boy and Daniel or cut and run and very likely save Daniel. His soul was terribly close to jumping in after his heart in that meat grinder.

He made his choice.

“Sir?” “Jack?”

Carter and Daniel's simultaneous and tentative questions came just as he opened his mouth to issue orders. “Carter, give Teal'c your '5, then take my sidearm. Get Daniel to the 'gate. Shoot anyone who even _looks_ hot. We'll cover you.”

“Jack, what are you going to do? You can't kill all these people!”

“Not your concern, Daniel. Captain?” O'Neill said brusquely.

“Yes, sir,” she answered crisply and gave Teal'c her machine pistol. She was shaking on the inside, though she hid it well. She had learned recently about the colonel's son's tragic death, and Kin was close in age to Charlie when he died. All this led her to the logical notion that his judgment was likely impaired. As she slipped his Beretta out of its holster, she asked, “What are you going to do, sir?”

Without taking his eyes off the mob, he replied, “My job, Captain. Now do yours.”

Carter felt the heat of his rage despite the coldness of his tone. She couldn't look at the natives, suspecting that so many would be dead or wounded in a matter of minutes. For a split second, she considered relieving him of command. That idea vanished because she had no evidence other than her feelings that he was about to slaughter all these people. “Yes, sir. Come on, Daniel.”

“No. I'm not going until Jack promises me he won't hurt anyone.”

Roughly twenty men began advancing slowly, tentatively, toward them at another signal from Makato.

Both O'Neill and Teal'c zeroed in on those approaching them. Thanks to every second Daniel and Carter delayed their retreat, the situation was becoming more and more uncontrollable. “Carter, get him out of here _now_.”

The menacing growl that inhabited O'Neill's command left no doubt in anyone's mind that he was to be obeyed at once. “Go, Daniel,” she ordered and pushed him away from the crowd and in the direction of the 'gate.

Shocked by her terseness, Jackson didn't resist. His gut twisted in sadness and revulsion at what was going to happen to those people. He appreciated the fact that Jack would do anything to protect him, as well as Sam and Teal'c, but not this. Those people's blood would be on both their hands.

After a few steps, they heard Jack shout, “Run!” immediately followed by the deadly chatter of two machine pistols.

They ran.

IIII

Fortunately, they weren't very far from the Stargate. Daniel reached the DHD first, but couldn't dial because he trembled with anguish, his mind forming a picture of the killing field sowed by Jack. His _friend_. He shook because he had to face the fact he'd been wrong about Jack changing. He was still the cold-hearted black ops soldier who lived by “See a threat and kill it.”

Carter's vision was blurry from unshed tears. She was grateful for one thing: she didn't see the carnage wrought by her commanding officer. This was simply not what she signed up for.

“Carter!”

Hearing her name shouted from a distance jolted her out of her morbid thoughts. She started dialing Earth.

The 'gate swooshed open, bathing the world in front of it a bright, almost warm glow and giving the flames nearest it an eerie, sparky look. By the time she'd finished entering her IDC, the colonel and Teal'c, both breathless from the breakneck pace they'd set, had joined them. Carter and Daniel stared accusingly at O'Neill, the devastated, haunted look in his eyes not registering through their pain and disappointment.

Suddenly, a strong gust of wind from the direction of the village hit them. It smelled heavily of cordite, with a faint but unmistakable undertone of something cloying, acrid, and putrid. It filled their nostrils, fired up their olfactory nerves, and burned into their brains.

Sam recognized the stench. Human flesh. The first time she'd smelled it was in Iraq. She hoped this would be the last time. With great effort, she held back the vomit that begged to come out. 

“Oh, my God. They burned him,” she said softly.

Daniel's knees folded, but Sam was able to catch him before he dropped.

“Not far behind us. Let's go.”

Daniel, quivering in disappointment with Jack, gaped at the colonel's simple, unemotional statement. “You haven't really changed, Jack," he accused. "You -”

By now, O'Neill had his breath fully back. “Not the time or place to discuss my shortcomings, Dr. Jackson,” he interrupted. “Either go through the damn 'gate or I'll _throw_ you through it.”

“Yes, _sir_.”

The disrespect in Daniel's tone toward O'Neill angered Teal'c. “DanielJackson, you assume too much. We must leave now or we will all die,” he declared, barely keeping his tongue civil.

Carter grabbed Daniel by his sleeve and hauled him up the steps and through the 'gate. Teal'c and O'Neill were right behind them.

IIII

“Welcome back, SG-1. You weren't gone . . . What is that smell?” Hammond asked as the dispirited team trudged down the ramp.

“Close the iris!” yelled O'Neill, his eyes focused on the control room. He looked at Hammond. “Pissed-off natives, General. And speaking of pissing, if you'll excuse me, sir, I have to do just that.” He handed his MP5 to an SF and left the embarkation room.

The fact that O'Neill didn't wait for permission, along with the look of disquiet in his eyes and the minute tremors of his body, troubled Hammond. When he turned his attention back to the remaining members, he knew with absolute certainty that this mission had failed miserably. “Captain Carter, perhaps you can hold off long enough on answering a call from Mother Nature to tell me what the hell happened. Including why Dr. Jackson smells like he's been swimmin' in kerosene and is missing a couple articles of clothing.” In addition to that and the cordite, there was another odor, much fainter, that he was all too familiar with. He hoped the air scrubbers were working at peak efficiency. He didn't want that horrendous stench to trigger a flashback for him or any other combat veteran on base.

“Yes, sir.” Quickly and succinctly, she relayed their experience on the planet. She concluded with, “Colonel O'Neill and Teal'c provided cover so I could get Daniel to the 'gate safely. You'll have to ask one of them how many casualties there were among the locals.”

Teal'c's jaw muscles worked furiously as the Tau'ri leader turned his gaze to him. “There was but one casualty of which I am aware, GeneralHammond. The boy. O'Neill and I fired our projectile weapons above their heads. Most of them dropped to the ground. It was enough to expose the boy to O'Neill once more.” Teal'c was gratified to see that Hammond and Carter's expressions immediately changed to reveal their somber comprehension of what he'd said, of what O'Neill had done. Not surprisingly, his civilian friend took a moment longer.

“He killed Kin rather than let him burn alive,” Daniel whispered, his voice cracking on every word. “And they burned him anyway.”

“Indeed.”

“Oh, God. Jack,” Daniel said as the realization hit that this had to be tearing his best friend into a thousand combustible pieces. Frantic, he raced out of the 'gate room to find Jack, leaving a trail of watered-down kerosene droplets behind him.

Hammond sighed. Any thought of reprimanding the colonel for not following protocol evaporated like a drop of water on a hot rock. Seeing that Carter was near tears and the Jaffa was more solemn than usual, he made a decision. "Get to the infirmary for your post-mission check, then take the rest of the day off. We'll debrief at 0900 in the morning. Captain, see to it that Colonel O'Neill and Doctor Jackson get their checks done and inform them about the meeting."

IIII

Jack headed straight for the gym. Only two others were there - Ferretti and one of the female nurses he had started working out with during his recovery from injuries sustained during the second Abydos mission.

As soon as Jack's old friend saw him, read the rippling tension of his muscles, the stiffness of his walk, the clinch of his jaw, the torment in eyes that wouldn't fully meet his, he knew Jack needed space and time. “Gym's all yours, Jack. Marcie and I were just finishing up.” She nodded her understanding and they left. Ferretti stood guard at the closed door while Marcie jogged off to make a sign advising everyone that the gym was temporarily closed.

Jack ripped off the tac vest and let it fall to the floor. He stopped briefly at a locker where he swapped his fingerless field gloves for a pair of gel-filled ones. He yanked them on, and began trying to pound the stuffing out of the heavy bag.

_Did the kid a favor._

Jab. Jab. Left hook.

_Better he die quickly from a bullet to the brain than take a lot longer to burn to death._

Jab. Combination. Right uppercut. Jab.

_So easy. Compensate for wind speed and direction. So close won't matter much._

Combination. Four quick jabs. Two hits with his left forearm.

_Aim. Head. Probably should go center mass with several grouped shots. Might take too long to die that way. Breathe in through mouth, exhale through nose. Hold it._

A flurry of jabs. Right uppercut. Left hook.

 _Squeeze the trigger. New eye. Too easy._ "Too goddamn easy!"

A torrent of jabs, faster, harder, until his hands and arms and shoulders ached. Yet he kept punching, welcoming the ache that began spiraling into an agony that rivaled the misery in his soul.

IIII

Marcie was smoothing the sign she'd just taped to the gym door when she and Lou heard the colonel's shouted words. They exchanged worried looks.

"Jack's okay, Marcie. He's just working something out. I've seen him like this before," Ferretti half-lied. He had seen Jack like this, just not this . . . intense.

"Lou!" Daniel shouted from a short distance down the hall. He skidded to a halt at Ferretti's side. "That was Jack I heard, wasn't it? How could you leave him alone? Couldn't you tell he was really upset?"

"Hey, Daniel, slow down and get a grip!"

Realizing he was unjustly angry with Lou, Daniel took several deep breaths. "Sorry. I'm just . . . concerned. Jack, uh, shot a young boy off-world less than an hour ago."

Marcie, who didn't know the colonel's history, instantly despised the man she had come to respect. She spun on her heels and left, tears already streaming down her face.

It wasn't until Marcie was almost out of sight that a dismayed Ferretti finally said, "Oh, shit. Daniel, I didn't know."

"You couldn't, Lou. It's not like Jack will ever say anything about it except what he has to when we debrief." Daniel hugged himself. "I have to talk to him. I thought he'd killed the villagers. I didn't trust him. In so many words, I accused him of mass murder."

"Daniel, Jack does the right thing a lot more often than he does the wrong thing. And that's saying something considering what he's had to do in the military."

"I'm just learning that about him." Daniel straightened until his shoulders were back and his chest was out. "Give us some privacy?"

Lou nodded and opened the door for Daniel to enter the gym.

IIII

Jack was so focused on trying to bury his hands in the heavy bag and to obliterate the vision of the back of Kin's head spraying blood, bone, and brain that he didn't hear the door open.

Daniel stopped and stared, not sure what to do, or even if he should do anything. Perhaps this was what Jack needed - to just work it out until he collapsed or the guilt and anger and whatever else he was feeling dissipated, whichever came first.

As Daniel watched, it was becoming evident that collapse would come first. Each punch Jack threw was as strong or stronger than the previous one. He wasn't slowing. His BDUs were now wetter than Daniel's T-shirt and pants. He couldn't keep this up for long. Jack would keel over well before the enormous storm within petered out.

As quietly as he could in squeaky boots, Daniel approached Jack and came to stand on the other side of the bag. He waited in hopes Jack would notice him and stop.

Jack didn't stop. 

Daniel, back to hugging himself, sighed and said, "Jack?"

O'Neill threw some more punches, then stopped. He held the bag still with his swollen hands. “I'm busy here, Daniel. Not in the mood to talk.” He stared at the bag, unable to look Daniel in the face.

“Maybe I am.”

“Tell that to someone who cares.” Jack resumed working the bag. Not only could he still see the boy, who was too frozen with fear to hit the ground when he and Teal'c opened fire, he could smell burnt flesh and blood.

Daniel was not be deterred. He knew better than anyone else just how vulnerable Jack was now. His friend could easily slide into a deep depression. True, Jack had shown them his strength when he'd had the team out on the mountain recently for s'mores, but that was different. That was after seeing and touching a Charlie that wasn't Charlie, and was something that seemed to have a healing effect. This was so tragically different.

“You care, Jack. I know you do.”

Jack slammed a forearm into the bag. Letting his sore arms drop to his sides, he glared at Daniel.

Daniel's breath seemed to wedge itself in his throat. The look from Jack was so incendiary that Daniel feared it would make the both of them spontaneously burst into flames.

“That's where you're wrong, Daniel.” Jack said the words so softly that Daniel had to strain to hear them.

“I'm not wrong, but I was earlier today. I thought you didn't care. I thought you had actually killed everyone in that village. I'm ashamed I ever thought you'd do such a thing.” He paused to draw on the courage he needed to speak about that cursed elephant in the room. “You cared enough about a boy you didn't know to save him from experiencing a gruesome death.”

“Dammit, Daniel, I didn't _save_ him! I _killed_ him! And since when did getting the back of your head blown away become _not_ gruesome?” Jack couldn't see his action as a save. All he'd done was trade one death for another for a _child_. A favor maybe, he was still trying to convince himself, but not a save. _**So** not a save_ , he thought. “Didn't save him,” he whispered coarsely. _Just like that poem – nothing gold can stay_.

Daniel dropped his chin to his chest, then raised his head enough to look at Jack over his glasses. “That's where _you're_ wrong, Jack. And I can't imagine how much that save is killing _you_.” He sighed; he'd get nowhere with Jack right now. “Be seeing you around, Colonel O'Neill.”

Jack stood statue-still, his face hard as stone, until he heard the door close quietly behind Daniel. Had Daniel just now seen his killing Kin for the unforgivable, despicable act it was and then told him he was off SG-1 by paraphrasing what he said when he left Daniel on Abydos?

Snorting, not wanting to think any more, he wiped the sweat from his forehead and went back to hammering away at the bag, oblivious to the pain and dejection in his friend's slumping body and shuffling walk.

IIII

O'Neill could barely move by the time he left the gym. Carter had found him and had relayed Hammond's orders. He owed the man an apology for his behavior. He should've been able to control himself long enough to follow proper procedure. Instead, he had let his hot Irish temper and self-loathing guilt override his discipline.

In the infirmary, Doctor Fraiser, who had stayed past her shift until she could examine O'Neill, scolded him for what he had done to his hands and for not seeing to the needs of his stressed-out and hurting team first. She feared she had overstepped her bounds, but felt that the situation called for a bit of tough love. Putting others first was one thing she hoped would keep him from falling deeper into a pit of despair.

He had the decency to look chastised, though he said nothing.

Fraiser checked him over closely and could find nothing else wrong except for some fairly significant dehydration. She ordered him to lie down, then left to give a nurse orders to administer a couple liters of fluid and apply ice packs to the colonel's hands. On her return to his bedside, she found the colonel fast asleep.

He gave no indication that he felt the pierce of the needle or the chill of the ice.

IIII

Somewhat replenished by the two-hour nap in the infirmary, the much needed intravenous and oral fluids, and a long, hot shower, Jack O'Neill appeared at General Hammond's door. “Sir, Colonel O'Neill reporting.”

George looked up from the report he was reading. “Come in, Colonel. Take a seat.”

Jack walked slowly into the room and stopped at parade rest in front of the desk. “Sir, if you don't mind, I think I'll stand. Pretty sure I wouldn't be able to get up for, oh, a few days.”

The general nodded his consent, tapping his fingers together. Jack's entire demeanor was pitch-perfect neutral. “Colonel?”

“First thing, General, I apologize for my behavior on returning from Nihon. I lied and disrespected you, sir, though that was not my intention. It is certainly not an excuse. I know the disciplinary action you take will be . . . appropriate.” Jack paused to catch his breath. “Second, I also let my team down, sir, and finally, I took an innocent life. I'll, uh, take care of the former, but the latter ... Well, General, I respectfully request you wait to prefer charges until the morning so I can see to my team.”

Hammond couldn't believe what he was hearing. How had Jack let down his team? How could he interpret his act of mercy as murder? He cleared his throat several times to buy time for forming his response.

“Colonel, considering the circumstances, your failure to follow protocol was understandable. Hell, Jack, if I'd been in your shoes, I'd've . . . well, I don't know what I'd've done but it wouldn't have been pretty. You did what you needed to do at that moment. It may have not been military discipline, but it sure as hell was discipline. A lot more than anyone else would have exercised under the same circumstances. You _were_ pissed, so you didn't lie. As for the disrespect, that's your interpretation, not mine.” He paused, in part to regroup his thoughts, in part to gauge O'Neill's reaction. Not surprising, nothing had changed there.

“Fraiser told me what she said about you not tending to your team. She had her reasons, but I disagree. If you had stayed in the embarkation room, we both know you probably would have made things worse for all of you. Now that you've been able to ... achieve _some_ perspective on today's events, you're in a better position to work with them productively.” Again he paused, this time as a way of telling Jack he expected something from him.

“Not to worry, sir. I already have a plan.”

“I knew you would, Colonel.” Hammond sighed and leaned closer to O'Neill. “As for the death of the boy.” Jack's mouth twitched ever so slightly. If Hammond had blinked, he would've missed it. “From what I hear, the boy's death was imminent. You, a complete stranger, showed him mercy that his own people would not. And I know you've hastened the inevitable in the past for a member of your team. We both have. When all is said and done, this was the same thing. It just ... hit a little too close to home today.”

Hammond watched as Jack's facial expression transformed from careful detachment to haunted sadness and back again in only two heartbeats. He hated doing this to Jack, dredging up horrible things he'd done for their country and Charlie's death, but he couldn't afford to let the leader of the flagship team wallow in self-hatred and -recrimination.

Jack ahem'd a couple of times to settle the quavering in his throat. "Yes, sir. Thank you, General. I appreciate your ... generosity."

"Go home, Jack. Get some rest. I'll see you at 0900."

“Sir, one more thing. Permission to take Teal'c off base overnight. I'm, uh, planning a late supper for the team. I know this is short notice ... “ He let the sentence trail off.

“Permission granted, Colonel. Just be careful driving. Last thing we need is a hurt alien showing up in the hospital with injuries already healing."

IIII

Daniel had given up trying to translate some of the notes he had from Ernest's planet. Delving into this "meaning-of-life stuff" would have to wait. Besides, he was distracted by the smell of burning flesh that lurked in his awareness.

For what seemed like hours, he held his arms tightly around himself and rocked back and forth in his office chair, thinking nothing and everything. Until his worry about Jack - that he would do something stupid, like eat a bullet - separated itself from everything else pinging around in his head.

Now the worry was consuming him. Daniel had lost his parents and now that Jack was so much a part of his life, losing him would be almost as devastating. What had Jack said when Teal'c was trapped in the labyrinth on Cimmeria?

"You're part of this family now."

_Damn you, Jack, you **know** family's supposed to be there for each other. Let me, or Sam or Teal'c, in!_

Daniel stopped rocking when he heard the two raps on his door. "Come in," he said after a deep breath.

"Hey, Daniel," Jack said quietly as he avoided eye contact.

"Jack."

"About earlier. In the gym. I ..." Jack paused, caught Daniel's eyes to which he flashed shame, then promptly stared at the floor.

Daniel knew this was all the apology Jack could manage at the moment. He was encouraged that Jack had already progressed to that point where he could apologize. "It's okay, Jack. You were . . ." Daniel found himself at a loss for a word that would tactfully describe what Jack must've been feeling. He doubted such a word existed.

"Yeah, I was." Jack huffed a sad laugh through his nose. "You, uh, wanna come over to my place tonight? I got somethin' I wanna show you. Carter and Teal'c, too. Don't eat anything before coming, though. Hope you're hungry for Italian."

Daniel smiled weakly. "Sure, sounds good. But on one condition."

Jack's eyebrows shut up with suspicion. "And that would beeee?"

"Can I stay over? I really don't want to be alone tonight in my new place."

"Sure. Teal'c's staying. You can duke it out over who gets the guest room. 1900 hours?"

Daniel nodded. "See you then." As Jack half-smiled at him and closed the door, Daniel's mood lifted noticeably. He even found himself hoping that there'd be s'mores for dessert.

IIII

Sam sat in front of her computer screen and stared blankly at the unapproved screen saver of racing motorcyles. She'd been trying to work on her mission report but couldn't concentrate. She couldn't get the image of an exploding Kin out of her head. Or of a burning Daniel. Or of a gleefully murderous Jack O'Neill. None of which were reality.

A sharp knock on her closed door snapped her out of her daze. For the first time, she realized she'd unaware of anything but those disturbing images - and the stench of burnt bodily tissues - for at least 30 minutes. "It's open," she said loudly. She moved the mouse to make the illegal screen saver disappear.

"Hi, Carter."

She smiled close-lipped at her commanding officer, who was looking better than he was the last time she had seen him. "Colonel. What can I do for you?"

Jack shoved his hands in his pockets and looked at everything but her. "I was hoping you, uh, would care to join me, Teal'c, and Daniel for dinner at my place. Tonight. Italian. I have something I want you to see."

He reminded her of when Freddy Watkins asked her to the junior prom. Except there was a dolefulness in the colonel's invite instead of the cautious hopefulness in Freddy's. "Sure, sir. What time?"

A grin quickly came and went. "1900. Oh, Daniel and Teal'c are staying overnight. You're, uh, welcome to as well. If you're, you know, comfortable doing that _here_. At my place. On Earth. Not that I have a vacation home on Chulak."

Sam quietly giggled at his growing embarrassment. "Thanks. I'll ... think about it. Can I bring anything?"

"No, thanks, Carter. Got it covered. Later." O'Neill nodded and unknowingly left Carter with a new and real image of him in her mind's eye.

Which got her thinking in a new direction. How could she have misjudged the colonel so terribly? Thought he was another black ops lunatic with a killer complex like her ex Jonas Hanson? Or maybe she hadn't misjudged him at all. Maybe she had projected onto him what _she_ wanted to do, would have done, if she'd been in command. If that were the case, she wasn't liking herself very much at the moment.

She recalled what the colonel had told her while he helped her with her pack before her first trip through the stargate. “Combat on the ground is _way_ different than combat in the air, Captain.”

 _You said a mouthful, Jack_.

IIII

Jack didn't understand it, but he had accepted within a few days of Teal'c joining the fight that he and the Jaffa pretty much didn't have to talk to communicate about a lot of things. At this moment he was also deeply grateful, because he feared what would happen if he actually tried to talk. How the anger with and disappointment in himself would be revealed to the people who needed to trust his judgment, how the admission that he had failed to keep an innocent boy alive would further erode that trust.

Teal'c understood about no or grossly limited choices, in a way that probably neither Daniel nor Carter ever would. At least he hoped Carter would never be forced to understand it the same way they did - however unlikely that seemed in this war.

Jack was also grateful that Teal'c had so readily agreed to join him and the rest of the team tonight. He needed not only Teal'c's lack of blame to reassure him that he had chosen the lesser of the two evils presented to him, but his silent steadiness to ground him.

He picked up the phone and punched in Teal'c's extension. It was answered before the second ring.

"This is Teal'c. You may speak now."

Jack chortled at his friend's phone etiquette. He was nothing if not direct. "Ready to go?"

"Indeed."

"Meet you at the elevator."

IIII

The last time Teal'c had been "topside," as the people of the SGC called the world outside the mountain, was to assist Daniel Jackson with moving into his new dwelling, shortly after their return from Cimmeria. This particluar excursion he believed had several purposes, the most important one being that of finding solace in the team's company after a particularly trying mission.

They had not spoken until O'Neill had stopped at a restaurant he called Fat Rico's and asked him to help. That quickly accomplished, despite Rico's efforts to engage in conversation with O'Neill, they secured the significant amount of food on the truck bed.

O'Neill resumed driving, the silence in the cab of the truck comfortable and safe. It would have continued had Teal'c not been struck with the urge to make a personal observation.

"I would not have thought to kill the boy before the flames could take him, O'Neill."

Jack ground his teeth, strangely disappointed in Teal'c's self-assessment. Or maybe the honorable First Prime was trying to help his friend assuage his guilt. "You would have in another second or two, Teal'c. Just like you shot above their heads without me having to tell you."

"To have killed them would serve no purpose, though one could argue their barbarity toward their own would justify their annihilation. However, I did not think to kill the boy Kin. I believed his death was soon enough in coming."

O'Neill could have taken that as an indictment of his action, but he picked up on the subtle regret in Teal'c's tone and the less-than-perfect posture – quite unusual for Teal'c. He took a deep breath, blew it out, then said, “I know you would've taken the shot, Teal'c, because I know the kind of man you are. The man who saved me and a lot of others on Chulak. Given the chance, you do the right thing.” He steered the truck onto his street.

Teal'c stared out the windshield while he processed O'Neill's statement. Though he still had doubts about the veracity of those words, it was clear O'Neill did not share those doubts, even if the Tau'ri had them about himself.

Unconsciously straightening in his seat, he turned to face O'Neill who was putting the vehicle in park. When he had O'Neill's attention, he bowed his head slowly to acknowledge his friend's confidence in him and his constant frown eased. “As do you,” he stated.

The warriors looked at each other, saying much without words, for several moments. Then Jack squeezed Teal'c's forearm. “Thanks.”

Only because of his superior hearing did Teal'c catch the trace quaver in O'Neill's voice.

IIII

No one questioned why Jack had chosen such highly aromatic food to eat – garlic bread, caesar salad, clam sauce, spicy marinara sauce, and freshly fried pancetta for crumbling on anything they wanted, with tiramisu and coffee for dessert. They were simply glad and appreciative he did. Clearing their olfactory memory of the last lingering traces of the burned boy served to lessen the pain they all felt.

They remained at the kitchen table, where the conversation had been flowing freely in many directions, for dessert. Daniel poured his third cup of coffee and shook his head in amazement as Teal'c tucked into his fourth slice of tiramisu. “So, Jack, what is it you want to show us?”

O'Neill checked his watch. It was nearly time. He looked at Carter, then Daniel, and finally Teal'c; all of them looked at him expectantly. “Can't see it from here, campers. Have to go topside.”

“But we are in your home, O'Neill. We are not within the mountain.”

“The colonel means the roof, Teal'c.”

“Is this advisable? I have seen the roof of this home. Being on it does not seem to be a wise choice.”

“It's okay, Teal'c. I go up there all the time. Part of it is flat.”

Teal'c raised a skeptical eyebrow. “I will see this flat roof.” He forked one more bite of the dessert into his mouth and stood.

“It's not the _roof_ I want you to see, big guy. It's ... something else.”

“Let's go, Jack! Whatever it is, you have my curiosity piqued.”

“Doesn't take much for _that_ to happen, Daniel.”

“I'm with Daniel, sir.”

Jack sighed with a dramatic flair. “Oh, all right. Follow me.”

A few minutes later, the four friends were on the observation deck. Carter headed straight for the telescope.

“Very nice 'scope, sir. What's the power on this model?”

“Carter, can we have that conversation later?” Despite his improving mood, Jack couldn't keep his irritation with her science/mechanics side hidden. Daniel glared at him; Teal'c deepened his frown.

Sam, looking sheepish, took a step away from the telescope. “Sorry, sir. It's really a great piece of equipment. I didn't know you were an astronomy buff.”

“No, Carter, I'm sorry. I'm just a little, uh, on edge.”

“As I am, O'Neill,” Teal'c said as he peered over the perimeter of the deck.

Jack snickered at the fact that Teal'c didn't care much for heights. “Okay, kids, I bought us a star this afternoon. Well, not _really_ bought a star, just the naming rights. I thought we could settle on a name together.”

Daniel's face lit up, as did Sam's. “That's, that's, that's so fantastic,” Daniel said. “I didn't know you could do that.”

“It's been around for about 20 years, Daniel. Gimme me a minute and I'll have it in my sights.” Having memorized the star's coordinates, Jack had it centered in the 'scope's field in no time. Especially since it was in the same quadrant of the binary star he had named after Charlie and him soon after his return from the first Abydos mission. He then gave them basic instructions on how to use the 'scope. “Carter, you're up.”

She smiled widely once she knew she had the right one in sight. “It's yellow! Really pale, but I can tell it's yellow.” She began to feel reassured that SG-1 was getting back into its groove. She filed away what he had done for them in her mental command primer. Payback, she knew, was her ever-growing loyalty now and her hopefully successful command of her own in the future.

Hiding his relief that someone picked up on the star's color, Jack said, “Good eye, Carter. Daniel, you go next.”

“It's beautiful, Jack,” Daniel said as he watched the distant star twinkle. It warmed him that Jack, who was so hardened by battle and tragedies that just seemed to keep mounting, had the capacity to do something this sweet. “Thanks.”

Jack simply cleared his throat and nodded. “Teal'c, it's your turn.”

The Jaffa carefully made his way to the telescope. The rest of the team noticed this and shared their amusement while Teal'c viewed the star.

“It is a star befitting SG-1, O'Neill.”

Jack rubbed his hands together several times. “Any suggestions?”

They all retreated into their minds to search for an appropriate name. After a few seconds, Daniel said serenely, “Kin. It means 'golden.'”

Carter's eyes instantly welled with tears. “That's perfect, Daniel.” _The perfect name for the perfect gift_ , she thought.

“Indeed.” Teal'c looked at O'Neill and with a slight arch of an eyebrow told him he was aware and approved of what he'd done to assist the team in coping and growing.

Jack knew that Daniel wouldn't fail to make the connection. That he would come up with the right name and that the rest of them would agree to it.

“Works for me, kids. Now that that's done, I'm ready to hit the hay,” Jack said. “Been a long day. I think I'll stay up here tonight, so work it out who sleeps where in the house.”

“What is hay and why would one desire to strike it?”

“It's an expression, Teal'c, that means you're tired and are going to bed to sleep.”

“Thank you, DanielJackson. I appreciate your willingness to continue to interpret the language of O'Neill for me. You as well, CaptainCarter.”

Sam giggled at the exchange and at Jack's phony perturbed look. “Sir, if you don't mind, I think I'll stay up here, too.”

“Great idea, Sam! Count me in.”

“I concur – if I may have a position close to the center of this platform.”

“It's gonna be pretty crowded.”

“That's okay, Jack. We'll manage.”

Jack had known they would stay with him, keep him alive, sane. It felt right, to sleep together under familiar stars, one of which was newly named to remember a boy who he had failed to save but who had brought his team closer and made them all stronger. He would live with what he'd done; he'd have to, because he was in no hurry to die. And maybe eventually one night many years from now when he would gaze at the golden star, Jack might try resuscitating that piece of himself he had killed off when he killed Kin.

IIII

As he debriefed SG-1 the next morning, General Hammond was gratified to see they were weathering the incident on Nihon quite well. Whatever Jack had done had worked; even he seemed at peace – at least on the outside.

"I expect your written reports on my desk by the end of the day. The mission to P3X-866 is a go and SG-1 will 'gate out in five days. In the meantime, catch up on your other work. That includes you, Colonel," Hammond said when he caught O'Neill's face contort into an exaggerated sneer. "Dismissed, people."

IIII

_Epilogue: Eight years later_ (Season 9, _Origin Part 3_ )

As the fiery liquid inexorably tracked through the maze toward Daniel Jackson and Vala Mal Doran, Daniel thought, not for the first and hopefully not the last time, how much he wished Jack O'Neill was still stepping through the 'gate with him. Wished that Jack was here for him and Vala now, like he had been there for Kin.

the end  
copyright 2011


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